


hole in (ninety) one

by bellamouse16, flyersgiroux, hischiers, matutine, thotnumber91



Series: sundays are for the boys [2]
Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: 420 blaze it, 91 to be exact, Animorphs - Freeform, CHEF JD BABEY, Golf balls, Grilled Cheese, Love Triangles, M/M, Wishbabies, brock boeser is actually jesus, bully the rat challenge, but only for a hot second, crack not treated seriously AT ALL, everyone in the nhl HATES peter chia pet, its because he went to college, like a lot of them, mentions of cannibalism but dont take it seriously its just connor, mitch and geno get ANGEREY, promo code biznasty, ryan nugent-hopkins is a witch, tyler seguins inverted ass as a plot device, zach hyman is the only player with braincells
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-11
Updated: 2019-03-11
Packaged: 2019-11-15 09:17:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18070646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellamouse16/pseuds/bellamouse16, https://archiveofourown.org/users/flyersgiroux/pseuds/flyersgiroux, https://archiveofourown.org/users/hischiers/pseuds/hischiers, https://archiveofourown.org/users/matutine/pseuds/matutine, https://archiveofourown.org/users/thotnumber91/pseuds/thotnumber91
Summary: sidney crosby isn't the only one that gets to have his sunday fun-day.





	hole in (ninety) one

Tyler Seguin never knew this day would come. But he sure as hell knew  _ he  _ would be coming. 

“WHAT THE FRICK IS UP!” Brad Marchand yelled, walking through Tyler’s front door uninvited since everyone in the world now knew where he lived. All it took was one pizza box and an ill-advised hook-up.  He should’ve stuck to Jamie and making insta stories of his adorable dogs. There was a big giant sack of golf balls hanging over his shoulder, waiting to be released. Jamie looked up from his book about cows (a picture book, everyone knew hockey players couldn’t read, plus the book was upside down) in horror.  Why was that rat walking in wearing just low rise jeans and no shirt? Didn’t he know this wasn’t his and Tyler’s post cup celebration?

“Who the  _ hell  _ invited you? You- you  _ sewer rat _ !” Jamie Benn spat at their visitor, his past hatred for the Bruins forward surfacing once again. 

“It was me.” Mats Zuccarello said, balanced on a stripper pole lowering from Tyler’s kitchen ceiling. “We used to…. Golf together in the offseason… back when I was… you know…” Balanced on Mats shoulders as he was doing a vertical split on the pole was Henrik Lundqvist, wearing a leopard print thong, similar to one they’d seen Biznasty wearing once.

“Did someone say they need a discount code?” Biz’s head popped through a window.

“Not now Biz!” they all shouted in unison.

“20% off with codeword chiclets,” Biz whispered before disappearing off, probably to go shout about the Yotes being a wagon.

“Okay boys, I think… If we’re going to be fitting all  _ ninety-one  _ golf balls in…  _ there _ , then we might be needing a little more help.” Tyler said, motioning to his inverted, flat ass. All of a sudden, as if summoned, Ryan Nugent-Hopkins appeared out of thin air. 

Nuge did not make an effort to acknowledge anyone’s presence before he waved his magic hockey stick, summoning half of the league into Tyler’s massive kitchen.

Taylor Hall walked in, rubbing his hands together greedily in anticipation.  Everyone looked a little shocked to see him there.

“We thought you were injured?” Tyler said.

“As if that could keep me from coming to this. Can anyone even name someone who hates Chiarelli more than us?” Taylor said, since the golf balls, all 91 of them, spelled out Tyler’s love (read: obsession) for Tiger Woods and his hate for Peter Chiarelli. 

_ “DON’T TALK ABOUT HIM!”  _ Connor McDavid shouted, still sensitive to the topic that had caused him so much pain in the past few years. From beside him, Dylan Strome, currently animorphed into a raccoon, soothingly rubbed his paw on Connor’s back. Conner swooned a bit at the sight of the adorable little creature.  He preferred Dylan this way. 

Unfortunately, the moment didn’t last long, since Mitch Marner, Noah Hanifin, and Jack Eichel (yes, a little reunion of the 2015 draft) popped on by.  Mitch grabbed raccoon Dylan and tossed him to Jack, since the two surprisingly bonded over their ability to be drama queens. Mitch took the opportunity to cozy up to Davo.  They rarely got a moment alone with Stromer always around, plus who knew how long it would be until Auston and Mitch’s new daddy, John Tavares, would show up.

“If anyone is shoving golf balls up my wifey’s ass it’s me!” Tyler Brown, or as we all know him by Brownie, suddenly walking through the back door (though he would much rather be entering Tyler’s  _ other  _ back door if you know what I mean). 

“Ouchies! Jamie be careful!” Tyler yelped, as Jamie shoved the first rat-spit-slicked golf ball into Tyler’s ass. In the far corner next to Seguin’s dishwasher, Brad Marchand sat plopping golf balls into his humongous mouth before spitting them back out. Charlie McAvoy, also animorphed (he takes the form of a stallion- bonafide), and Jake DeBrusk (cooking up something tasty) sat next to him, paying no attention to the current events.

“Sorry...it’s, uhhh, not my fault your ass is...not…” Jamie stumbled upon his words trying to figure out how to say “your ass is too small for this shit” without making Tyler mad at him.

“Not what, Jamie?”

“Not ready for golf balls?” He mooed, turning a shade of deep crimson. 

Auston Matthews and John Tavares walked in, hand in hand (Mitch immediately burst into tears, wondering how both of his secret boyfriends could be cheating on him with one another). Close behind them was Jordie Benn, but he was just dropping off the children of the Canadiens, Jesperi Kotkaniemi and Brendan Gallagher.  

He glanced at the scene happening and shook his head.  

“I don’t want to know.”

He was about to leave, but a raccoon Dylan Strome screeched and lept from Jack’s arms.  He scurried across the floor and jumped into Jordie’s arms. They didn’t know how their relationship had started, (almost as if someone just pulled this ship out of their ass) but who could say no to a good ole daddy kink relationship.  They surely couldn’t. Jordie walked out, holding Dylan carefully in his arms. Connor wasn’t sure what to think about his little racoon in the arms of another man.

TK and Nolan Patrick walk into the kitchen, Starbucks in hand, and gasp at what is happening before them. “You started  _ without  _ us?” Teeks shrieks, dropping his overpriced, sore replacement for Timmy’s coffee. Nolan immediately flipped upside down into a headstand, his hair resembling a mop  _ so  _ much that it could also be used as one, and began to clean up the mess.

“HRRRNNGH!!” Sidney Crosby says, entering through the window. “The only person who should be getting things shoved in their booty is ME!” 

“No need to be selfish  _ Sid _ ,” Claude Giroux snaps at the Penguins’ Captain, a grilled cheese sandwich and several golf balls in each hand. “You had your fun last Sunday, it’s Tyler’s turn now.” 

Right after he finishes leering at Sidney, he walks over to where Tyler is spread out on the bed and shoves both of his hands in his hole - grilled cheeses and all.

“Did you really just waste your precious food?” Sidney asks, horrified. He might not understand the ginger’s grilled cheese obsession, but his own pb&j routine was probably comparable, and Sid would combust if any of those went up a player’s ass.  What kind of monster would do that purposely? Oh, right, Giroux. Giroux is a monster, along with the rest of the Flyers.

“The chef burnt them! I need to stop trusting others to make grilled cheese for me.”

“You shoved  _ what  _ in my ass?” Tyler shouts.

“You’ll thank me later. How many balls is that now, Seguin?” Claude asks, turning over to Marchand, who is slobbering up the golf balls at rapid speed.

“18.” Zach Hyman says, looking up from his calculator. He was the only one of them who knew math, because he went to college, meaning he had the only brain cell in the room.  “So, according to my calculations, there are still 73 more to go.” 

Auston picked up a few golf balls, figuring he might as well join in.  He figured his ole “hit em with the four” would be too old by now. Instead, he picked up four in each hand and thrust them in. In hindsight, he wondered if they should be lubing up these golf balls with more than just Marchand’s rat spit.

“Hey guys,” Jonathan Toews says, walking towards Tyler and Jamie in his 67 year old Birkenstocks. “I brought some organic golf balls, just so, you know, you don't want to pollute your butt with all those nasty chemicals they put in the normal ones. I made them myself, right after I finished churning my butter and stepping on some fresh grapes for my wine.”

Along with Toews was the ever beautiful Patrick Sharp.  He was dressed like a hot college professor, as he always seemed to be on NBCSN (aka the highlight of that disaster of a network).  He just smiled brilliantly and gently shoved in a golf ball with his magical hands.

“Thank you Jonny, that’s very cons-” Tyler begins, but his words turn into a strangled groan as Alexander Ovechkin shoves eight balls in at once. 

“Where did you come from?!” Tyler exclaimed. He turned his head so he could fully see Ovi standing behind him. Next to the Russian man was TJ Oshie, a bud light in his hand and a jersey stretched over his head.  Oshie also brought fellow 2014 Olympic teammate, David “Daddy” Backes, and his sugar baby, Brandon Carlo. No one commented on where Backes’ hand was. They already mentioned that enough on Instagram.

Ovechkin shrugged. 

“Papa Johns dropped me off.  I brought pizza with me.”

“Should we tip?” asks Jamie as he looks over them.

Along with them had also come Braden Holtby.  Braden had just come to talk to Toews about farms and organic produce, but he shoved in four balls into Tyler ass before talking to Toews. TJ was holding a tray of shots. 

“AYYYY WASSUP FAM? NateDogg IS IN THE HOUSE!!!” Nathan “MackDaddy” MacKinnon says, walking by Tyler and shoving a few balls in his booty hole. Behind him is the rest of the Colorado Avalanche “squad”: Gabe, Tyson, Mikko, EJ, JT Compher, and The Other Tyson. 

“Literally no one calls you that dude. You’ve made half those names up.” EJ says as he’s petting his horse, Biznasty, who neighs appreciatively.

“Yes they do! Sid, back me up, bud!”

“I can’t be your fallback man for everything, stop it,” Sid complains as he studies a few golf balls instead of doing his job of stuffing Tyler with them, trying to make out the message scattered on each ball.

“You are the worst best friend ever,” MackDaddy says, pouting in a way that makes him look more like Mack _ Child _ .

Out of nowhere, Jesus himself, Brock Boeser descends from a white staircase leading from upstairs. “Here, mortals, let me help.” He says, before placing a golden golf ball neatly in Tyler’s badonkadonk, then disappears.

It was taking a while for them all to shove in golf balls, so Nuge decided they were going to need a little more help.  In popped Miro Heiskanen and a few of the baby rookies from 2017: Nico Hischier, little bird Elias Pettersson, and Cody Glass (who was dropped off by his sugar daddy, Marc Andre-Fleury, who couldn’t stay due to his date with Kris Letang at Nobu cause they’re boujie).

“Oh um, does this seem safe? Oh um I don’t know if we should be doing this..” INNOCENT Miro mumbles out. Luckily enough for him, his fellow rookies were just as nervous. It wasn’t until they saw their draft classmate, Nolan Patrick, elbow deep in golf balls, did they get into it.

“It’s not that bad, guys,” Patty mumbles as he shoves one into Tyler’s ass. Tyler lets out a little moan at the pleasure.  “Well, as long as you ignore the noises.” Though at least shoving objects up a Star’s ass was less awkward than shoving them up Sidney Crosby’s. How does one delete memories?

Lawson Crouse does the worm into the kitchen and inserts a few golf balls quickly. The 2015 draft guys all laugh and start joking about the worm he’d eaten for $100.  The older guys in the room shook their heads. They’d eaten worse things for less money. 

Martin Jones came by with the Shark’s mascot, cause he’s cute, and juggled four golf balls before tossing them into Tyler’s ass.  And then they left, since Sharkie had a prank war going on with Gritty and was heading to Philly to prank him and Martin had a date with Brenden Dillon. They were going to one of those places where you could play with puppies.

“Aw, Victor’s gonna be sad that he missed Sharkie,” Jamie mooed sadly.

“Is that really what we’re thinking about right now?” Tyler asked, starting to feel a little impatient despite having four golf balls just shot into him in rapid succession.  “Who cares, my ass needs attention!”

“I know, babe, doesn’t it always?”

“ _ I’m gonna barf! _ ” shouts TK as he overhears Jamie’s comment. “Buddies, get a room if you’re gonna be so...mushy gushy.”

“You got golf balls?” Tyler asks.

“Yeah.”

“Then  _ shove them please _ .”

“Alright, alright,” Teeks takes the three balls in his hands and pushes them in one at a time, because Tyler’s flat ass looks too small to him to try to shove them all at once.

Tyler’s moans get higher and higher with each ball shoved inside. “That’s it...also, kid, I see how you fall over Patty, you can’t judge us.”

If they weren’t already, Nolan’s cheeks turn positively pink with that.  He decides to be a bit spiteful and shoves in five golf balls dry.

Tyler groans out, “Oh yeah, baby. Right there.   _ Right there _ .”

Jamie leaned in and let out a small sound of distress.  Were they going to have enough room for 91 golf balls in Tyler’s very average, very flat ass?  They were going to need something to shove those balls in further. He hummed to himself before realizing they had the perfect thing.  Thank god the Texas Rangers had let them keep a bat each after they had batting practice for that promotion. He quickly got the bat from the closet and handed it to Brownie, who used the thick end of the bat to shove the balls in deeper.  Tyler only moaned more loudly, cum dripping from his EXTREMELY AVERAGE dick.

“Is it just me, or is it unfair that Seggy’s the only one naked right now?” Mat Barzal says and immediately strips down, Tito following in his footsteps.Once the golf balls are secure, they light up a joint and each taking a puff before handing it over to Connor McCannabis who is very pro weed so they have their hands free for even more balls.

Instead of taking a hit of the blunt, McDavid stares down Barzy, then eats him. 

“Biz here with the 20% Urbal Activ CBD oil, great for relaxation, maybe even putting some on your dick, or your ass.  Who’s to judge. Gotta keep that tongue game strong, boys. Not a big deal.” Biz said tossing it to Jamie, confusing him since Jamie had no tongue game, everyone knew that. What he didn’t realize was that Biz said that hoping it might give Jamie some ideas.  If it didn't, Biz knew what his next project was going to have to be. He was sure NHL would pay him for that too, it was basically doing the world a service.

Across the room, Mitch, Auston, and John Tavares had a heated argument. Marner was in tears (still) because Auston cheated on him with JT. He eventually became so angry that he used his toned bicep (insured by Intact Insurance) to throw seven golf balls at light speed into Seggy’s ass.

“I don’t need you!” Mitch shouted at JT and ran into the arms of Matt Martin who carried him off to the hell hole that is Long Island. 

Tito’s head whipped over to the Leafs’ argument. “Are we talking about how we don’t need JT? Can I join?”

JT shot him a look with his bright yet emotionless eyes. Tito merely shrugged, too high to really start drama, and shoved in two more golf balls. “I’m just saying, we don’t.”

The guys were clearly getting tired of putting in golf balls, so Nuge called in some more help with his magical wand.  In came Ben Bishop, Tuukka Rask, and Matt Murray. Murray brought along a few not-so-baby Penguins: Olli Maata, Jake Guentzel, Teddy Blueger, Zach Aston-Reese, and Jared McCann.  Each one of them shoved in a golf ball.

Claude Giroux looked over at the flock of Penguins that suddenly arrived, and suddenly burnt grilled cheese was not the worst thing about his day. “Croz, is your team trying to show off now? Because if so, this is just pathetic.”

“Not my fault my team is more selfless.”

“Your team? More selfless? Didn’t know you suddenly gained a sense of humor!”

“Alright then, prove it. Prove to me the Flyers are the more generous team.”

Tyler then let out a sound of frustration. “I didn’t bring you two here to argue like a married couple! I need golf balls!”

Jamie rolled his eyes at Tyler’s antics and shoved in a golf ball to make sure this didn’t get sidetracked any more.

“Like a  _ what _ ?” Crosby and Giroux shrieked out at the same time.

Carter Hart, their wish child, popped up behind them. “A married couple. You guys are my fathers.”

“Wait! You guys aren’t just daddys, but  _ Daddies?!”  _ Tyler exclaimed.  

Sidney and Claude looked at him in shock.  They thought they had managed to keep their sex life a secret - but their surprise is cut short when Evgeni Malkin hulk smashes through the door and yeets Claude out the door like a grilled cheese on a Thursday.

While this drama was all happening, in came Jason “Daddy” Demers.  Tyler preened when he spotted him walking in. 

“Don’t worry, baby. We’ll get you to 91. I brought in reinforcements.”

Behind Daddy was Dustin “Buff Daddy” Byfuglien, Evgenii “Daddy” Dadonov, Nicklas “Papa” Backstrom, and the rest of the Russian Mob. 

Each one of them shoved in another golf ball to finish out the last few balls left, however, they left the final one for Jamie, who shoved it in with a ‘plonk’. 

“Thanks guys, it means a lot that y’all came out to shove golf balls in me. It’s the thot that counts.” Tyler smiled weakly resting between Jamie’s legs. 

 

 

 

_ (Not) the end.  _

**Author's Note:**

> John Tavares watched the scene and smiled. He couldn't wait for the boys to shove 91 Bass fish up his ass next Sunday. He was ready.


End file.
